Fury
by CDSoundtrack
Summary: In this story Garrett Hawke gains a strange ability, one that is shrouded in suspicion and power. Watch as he takes Kirkwall by storm, the Fury of Kirkwall is here! There are references to a Dalish elf, the Hero of Ferelden, whose story will be told soon enough. Until then, enjoy the Fury!


Fury

Chapter I: Rise

 _Cassandra Pentaghast growled at the smug dwarf facing her, reclining on a throne-like seat. He refused to say a word about Hawke, the Champion and Fury of Kirkwall, unless she agreed to hear the full story. Something about 'misunderstanding the guy'. Ha! There was no chance of misunderstanding; the Fury had caused nothing but chaos since he had come to Kirkwall! But, she knew she would get no information whatsoever if she didn't listen to the damn dwarf._

" _Very well." She conceded, making him smirk. "Tell your story, but it will be the truth. All of it." She demanded, glaring threateningly at the roguish dwarf._

" _As you wish Seeker. You recall the Hero of Ferelden and his strange ability, yes?" He asked, causing a confused expression to appear on the face of Cassandra._

" _Of course. He was able to manifest his will in such a way that he could use magic, right?" She responded, shifting impatiently. She was here to learn about the Fury of Kirkwall, not the Will of the Dalish._

" _Brilliantly phrased. Yes, his powers relied on his excess of willpower, and despite not being a mage; his abilities surpassed even the strongest through sheer force of will. Hawke's power, on the other hand, was what gave him the title of Fury. Like the Hero of Ferelden, his power is similarly strengthened by emotion. Though his was anger… A rage so powerful that every time it was unleashed, it shook the Stone itself…"_

Garrett Hawke looked on in shock, watching as the Ogre in front of him slammed its meaty fist into his brother. Carver didn't move from where he lay. Shocked and numb, Hawke could barely remain standing, the powerful Darkspawn in front of him had just killed his brother. Suddenly, the numbness was replaced by frustration and anger. He and his brother had escaped the betrayal at Ostagar together, warrior and rogue, they had forged a bond beyond sibling rivalry as they fled and fought. And now he was dead. Gone to the Maker and Fade. He could barely comprehend it, though he glared at the monstrosity in front of him.

His little brother was dead, and it was this thing's fault. The knowledge of that made him utterly despise it. He wanted to kill it, to make it suffer for tearing his sibling from their lives. He started seeing red, and unknown to him, a red mist was pouring from his eyes. Aveline, Wesley, Leandra, and Bethany all shuddered slightly at that. Wesley figured it to be blood magic or a Rage Demon, but it was… different somehow. He would have unleashed a Holy Smite, but his arms were useless.

Hawke raised his twin daggers, glaring at the Ogre with a terrible bloody glow coming from his eyes. He let out a roar of pure fury, and ran at the giant Darkspawn, slicing through the Hurlocks as if they were simple brush, and in his rage, they were. The Ogre turned to look at the being that had roared, and was surprised to see a lithe figure in light armor moving towards it at high speeds. Hawke leaped up, gaining impressive amounts of boost, and stabbed his blades into the chest of the Darkspawn.

A guttural sound escaped him as he started stabbing his blades in and out of the monster at a quick pace, the **Onslaught** soon causing the beast to stagger. He pulled both blades out of the Ogre's chest and pushed off with his feet, landing safely with a roll. The ground boomed as the beast fell, and the remaining Hurlocks looked at him in what seemed to be shock, shuffling closer to his allies. He looked to Carter's body, and the bloody mist faltered for a moment, but then he saw a Hurlock attempt to slice Bethany, who blocked with her stave just in time, and the mist returned.

Hawke charged, strapping his daggers to his waist and grabbing Carter's greatsword, which he swung in a wide arc, ripping the opposing monsters to pieces. Through the haze that was the rage, he heard Bethany mutter a shocked 'Brother?'

When most of the Darkspawn had retreated from the hellion that Hawke had become, the mist faded, revealing his now weary brown eyes. He collapsed to his knees, dropping the blade he had devastated the Darkspawn forces with.

"Most interesting…" A voice, unfamiliar to all, sounded, and they looked up to see an older woman wearing what looked to be armor. Her silver hair was wrapped in what seemed to be four horns, and her golden eyes were piercing. "So there is another… But this one is different." What she said was cryptic at best, and Hawke tried to stand, using Carver's weapon as a crutch, sinking the tip of the weapon into the ground.

"Who… are you?" He asked, breathing with more difficulty than he had before. The effort he had expended fighting the Darkspawn was catching up with him.

"Hm… Same side effect, though different triggers… Why is your group heading towards the Wilds? If you wish to escape the Darkspawn horde, you are heading in the wrong direction." She wondered aloud, and what she said piqued Hawke's interest. She knew what had happened?

"What happened to him? Do you know?" Bethany asked, maneuvering herself to be between Hawke and their mother, now crying over Carver's corpse. She wouldn't be responsible for their mother's death if her brother went into a berserker rage again.

"Not for certain. This is something new, even for me. But there is another with a similar power, though blue instead of red, and he never seemed so enraged when he used this technique. Are you a mage perhaps?" She asked, looking to Hawke for a moment, and then shaking her head. "No, just like the other. Not a mage, but a connection to the Fade nonetheless."

"Who is this other you speak of?" Hawke asked, sipping on a Stamina Draught to regain his strength. Energy ebbed back into him, and he stopped leaning so heavily on his brother's trusty weapon.

"Someone like you, destined to be at the center of events that change the world, though his fate is more set in stone than yours. You may wish to meet him, but he has been long gone. He passed through Lothering a while back, you may remember…" Hawke's eyes widened. He did recall a strange group of refugees that had wandered through a bit before Lothering fell, during the brief respite from running all the way since the betrayal at Ostagar. A mabari war hound, a Chantry sister, a robed Chasind, A warrior in splintmail, the towering Qunari that they had somehow gotten out of the cage, and a lithe elf in Dalish armor, hefting a longbow and greatsword on his back, with twin daggers strapped to his waist. He seemed to have been prepared for anything, and the kind of will in his eyes, that could be seen from even far away, made the Hawke's give him a wide berth. He was not one that would be messed with, well, without the other party becoming severely injured anyway.

"The Dalish…" The old woman nodded in acknowledgement. They looked around and saw that Darkspawn were edging nearer. "We need to get to Kirkwall. Can you help us stranger?" He asked, putting aside the questioning for now. He could wait to get his answers; Hawke's were patient for the most part.

"Ah, the Free Marches? You'll be free of the Blight, that is certain, but there are plenty of things awaiting you. Friends, enemies, bloodshed, choices. Oh the choices! The Dalish has started on his path, will you take this one?" She seemed to be blathering now, but Hawke understood her. If he went to Kirkwall, he would be at the center of something big.

"This path… What happens to my family?" He asked, turning to his mother and sister, wincing slightly when Bethany flinched under his gaze. She feared him for whatever had happened.

"There is loss in this venture, but so there has in the Dalish's. Yet he accepted this. It was forced upon him, but he stands strong facing this Blight. He is a Grey Warden, one of the last in Ferelden." She turned to Wesley. "And speaking of, the taint almost has this one. He will turn soon if not converted into the Wardens, which is currently impossible, or killed. Or… No, the healing of the Taint is impossible. In all my years, I have found ways to prevent it, but never to counter it." She rambled, but Hawke caught her. There was a chance to save Wesley.

"What's this last thought you have?" He asked. Wesley collapsed to the ground, the weight of his Templar armor too much for his weary and tainted body.

"Don't trust her. She's a Witch of the Wilds." The downed Templar glared at the old woman.

"You sound like the Grey Wardens that visited me in the Wilds. Names are pretty, though useless. To some, I am Asha'bellanar. To others, I am Flemeth." Avelin readied her blade when the last name was spouted. Obviously she recalled the old tale. "And child, relax. Your fear of your brother is misplaced. Has he harmed you or someone you care about? No, even in the blind fury he protected those he cares for. In the future, he will eventually learn to call on the power, and you will need to accept this. He will sacrifice himself to protect you, but be wary. With his temper comes great power. It is like keeping a high dragon for a guard dog. I have seen this power in a different form, and I know that it will change the world. Some things have already begun to change, but you'll figure that out soon enough. There is a tribe of Dalish elves camping on Sundermount, a mountain near Kirkwall. Give them this amulet, and the debt will be paid. Now, let's get you to Kirkwall."

" _Flemeth? Bullshit." Cassandra glared at the dwarf. She didn't have time for this; the world was going to hell around her!_

" _That doesn't match the story you heard? I'm guessing you heard that she came as a dragon, swooping in and saving their lives?"_

" _Yes actually. But then, in that tale, The Champion was a mage, and the sister was the one who perished."_

" _Not all tales are true, I know this especially well Seeker. There are some where Hawke is a sarcastic bastard. Others where he is the paragon of mankind, and still others where he is a bigger prick than Broody. Then there are some where he wields a greatsword, a sword and shield, a mage's staff, daggers, or a bow. There are some where he falls for Daisy, and others for the pirate captain, and even more that he loved Anders or Broody or Aveline or any others he had met."_

" _So which are true?"_

" _Hawke's a good man. A pain in the ass, sarcastic but always civil when it's called for. And he had a massive temper with a small string. He used twin daggers, though he also carried a mage's staff that doubled as a blade after he learned to manipulate the Fade and magic without use of lyrium. He left the archery to me and Bianca, but other than that, he was a master of all trades. He could wield nearly any weapon with ease, especially when he taps into his rage. As for love interests, well… Hawke was pretty secretive when it came to that."_

" _Well then get back to the beginning. What happened to the Templar? Wesley?_

" _Flemeth's idea was that the taint could be stopped by Hawke channeling his rage into pure healing energy. Hawke was too tired after thrashing the Ogre and passed out, though not before trying his best and telling Aveline that in the end it was her call. By the time he woke up, they had made it to the docks in Denerim. Turns out, Aveline had killed Wesley, poor sod that he was. They had just boarded a ship headed for Kirkwall, chock full of refugees. It took ages, days stuck in the dark galley with dozens of other refugees, but finally they saw it. Kirkwall, the City of Chains."_


End file.
